


Things to be Thankful For

by Pennygirl612



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Post-Season/Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennygirl612/pseuds/Pennygirl612
Summary: Takes place five years after the series finale.  Thanksgiving dinner at the Burke residence turns into a special reunion as Peter and Neal reunite for the first time since Neal faked his death and fled to Paris.  Story meant to be light and fluffy, but has minor moments of angst.





	1. A Loving Wife and Son

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have 4 chapters. All have been written except for the ending which is nearly complete. As this is a Thanksgiving story, I plan to have all 4 chapters posted by then. As always, comments/constructive criticism are welcome and appreciated.

Chapter One: A Loving Wife and Son

When he snaked an arm around her waist drawing her back against him; Elizabeth giggled feeling lips latch onto her neck. Closing her eyes, she let Peter’s tongue dance lightly on her skin before reluctantly pushing him away with a swat. 

“Our guests will be arriving soon,” she reminded him stepping further out of his reach when Peter looked like he was going to move back in for more.

Peter pretended to pout, but then he cocked his head as something she said registered. “Guests-- as in plural?” Peter asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. 

Elizabeth ignored his question and turned back around to the stove, pretending to check on the potatoes. She knew that tone and wasn’t about to let “Agent” Burke start interrogating her. She had been waiting too long for this day and wasn’t going to let Peter’s suspicious nature ruin it. Besides, her husband was far better off not knowing what was about to hit him. 

With her back still turned, she ordered him to check on Neal who was supposed to be straightening up his room. Peter was chuckling when he returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. He told her how Neal had tried to pull a fast one by hiding all of his toys in the bottom of his closet and shoving his clean clothes under the bed instead of taking the time to put them away in the proper dresser drawer. 

Elizabeth smiled. “So he was trying to con you, was he? You would think he would know better.” When Peter nodded, she pursed her lips in thought. “Do you think the boy makes the name or the name makes the boy?”

Peter pretended to think it over. Then he shrugged, “I don’t know. Next week let’s try calling him Jones and see if we get different results.” 

They both shared a laugh. More than once, they had noticed a budding conman in their son. But like his name sake, young Neal had a heart of gold so they didn’t worry too much. Besides, they chalked up most of his antics to the sometimes negative influence of his “Uncle” Mozzie.

Sticking a thermometer in the turkey, Elizabeth was pleased to see it was fully cooked. Turning the oven off, she found her husband was once again giving her a look that left no doubt what he was wanting. She narrowed her eyes, “Hon, get your mind out of the gutter and go open a bottle each of the red and white wine. They need time to breath.” When his eyes lingered, Elizabeth laughed. “Later, if you’re good.”

Watching him reluctantly tear his eyes off her to comply, Elizabeth felt a bit of heat warm her. After all their years together and adding a kid into the mix, her husband left no doubt that he still found her sexy. And now, seeing how his ass filling out the khaki pants he wore left her more than a little breathless, Elizabeth knew she was a very lucky woman indeed. 

She was just formulating a mental picture of what the evening could later entail when a shout from Peter interrupted her thoughts. Wincing, she knew Peter had found something to let him in on her secret. Saying a silent prayer for strength, she went to face at least part of the music. 

She found Peter at the dining room table standing with his hands on his hips, his entire body held straight in perfect FBI trained form. When she entered the room, his eyes narrowed further as he pointed to the plates stacked in front of him. Shit, she thought, chastising herself for her own stupidity. Stealth mode had made her hide the folding chairs she had brought home from work out on the back porch and therefore out of her husband’s sight. However, she hadn’t given a second thought to pulling out the good china from the corner cupboard and stacking them onto the table earlier that morning. It was just another example of how living with an FBI Agent with highly trained observational skills could be challenging; especially when trying to pull a fast one on him.

“El, hon, why are there ten plates?” Peter asked in a deceptively calm and light manner.

Elizabeth sighed because she was very familiar with this side of Peter as well. In hindsight, maybe she should have let her husband have his way with her in the kitchen earlier. Maybe it would have at least taken the edge off or even distracted him from discovering the evidence of just how many people she had invited to Thanksgiving dinner. Not that it was the number that mattered as much as the “whom” she had invited. 

For a brief moment, she wondered if going down on him now would make any difference but witnessing the storm behind his brown eyes, Elizabeth knew it was too late for that. She did, however, make a mental note about trying that technique out at Christmas when her parents were coming to stay with them for a week…another secret she hoped to keep until the last possible moment. 

With a rather loud exhale, Peter waited for Elizabeth to explain. He was giving her his famous “perp” stare. The one that made even the toughest criminals want to confess every sin and transgression just to get out from under that icy glare. 

Determined not to completely fold under pressure, Elizabeth knew all she could do now was stand there, try to look as innocent as possible, and---stall. After all, once the guests arrived, there would be very little Peter could do about it. 

“Peter, it’s Thanksgiving,” Elizabeth said as if that explained everything.

Peter, now on red alert that his wife was completely trying to bamboozle him, returned his hands to his hips and stared her down. And for her part, Elizabeth just stared right back; starting a game of chicken to see who would blink first. Since both were equally stubborn and hardheaded when they set their minds to it, it was anyone’s guess just how long the competition would have lasted but Elizabeth had to admit she was grateful when the doorbell rang out announcing the first of the guests and breaking the deadlock.


	2. Loyal and Quirky Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guests start arriving for Thanksgiving Dinner including someone Peter wasn't sure he would ever see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos. I know this chapter leaves you at a bit of a cliffhanger. Don't worry, I plan to post the next chapter tomorrow.

Chapter Two: Loyal and Quirky Friends

Breathing a sigh of relief, Elizabeth quickly brushed past Peter to see to their first arriving guest reminding him again about the wine as she left the room. At the door, she welcomed Diana, Christie, and Theo into her home. Advising Theo that Neal was upstairs in his room, Theo happily sprinted towards the steps to join his friend. Christie was handing over a veggie tray to Elizabeth when Peter joined the group in the living room.

“Boss,” Diana called out warmly.

With a broad smile, Peter greeted his former probie with a hug. “Diana, you’ve been in DC running your own team for over two years. You’re the boss now.” 

Christie smiled and stated simply, “Because she learned from the best.”

Before Peter could respond he heard a pounding on the back door. Seeing the sheepish expression on Elizabeth’s face, Peter groaned. Looking at Diana, he saw her trying hard to hide a grin. They both knew only one person quirky enough to refuse the front door and insist upon entering “discreetly” through the back. 

As Elizabeth started to move, Peter held up a hand to stop her as he made his way into the kitchen. Closing his eyes and counting to ten, Peter opened the back door and as expected saw Mozzie standing just outside the light. What Peter had not expected to find was an unknown woman standing there next to him. Peter factored her age as being in her mid-forties. Standing several inches taller than Mozzie with a somewhat stocky frame, her flaming red hair seemed to stick out in several directions at once. To say the least, she was a sight.

“Mozzie,” Peter finally said, reluctantly holding the door open for them to enter.

“Suit,” Mozzie acknowledged as he and the woman stepped inside. “Allow me to introduce you.”

Peter waited for Mozzie to actually provide that introduction but when Mozzie remained silent, Peter attempted to smile warmly at the woman. “Peter,” he said by way of his own introduction. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

The woman took a moment to look Peter up and down before she shook her head. “Nice try, G-Man. I won’t be answering any of your questions,” she smartly informed Peter. “I know my rights and I’m not afraid to use them!”

“Of course not,” Peter said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “My apologies.”

Nose sniffing the air, the unnamed woman looked up at Peter, a strange look on her face. “Turkey?”

“It is Thanksgiving,” Peter answered. Judging by her expression, he felt like he may have just stepped in something. A quick glance at Mozzie and seeing the twinkle in his eye confirmed he had in fact stepped in something.

Shaking her head in disapproval, the woman informed Peter, “I shouldn’t have expected different despite what Mozzie said about you. As a federal worker naturally you conform to societal norms, are blind to the conspiracies surrounding you, and would fall prey to the beef industry.”

Peter paused. He didn’t want to ask. Nope, he was not going to ask. Clearly no good would come from it, yet he couldn’t help himself. “Eating turkey is a conspiracy manufactured by the beef industry?”

“Don’t be stupid! Eating turkey isn’t the issue!” She stated firmly.

This time Peter refrained from responding. He recognized it was far better to quit while he was ahead. Mozzie, however, wasn’t about to let it go, but in fairness, Peter really shouldn’t have expected any less from him.

“Tell the Suit what the real issue is,” Mozzie encouraged her; all the while ignoring the glare coming from Peter. 

His companion nodded and happily spelled it out for Peter. “Have you never considered the fact that Thanksgiving is the only day of the year you eat turkey?! Sure, maybe you have leftovers tomorrow but what are you eating the remaining 363 days? It’s not turkey, now is it?!”

Mozzie beamed proudly at her as Peter groaned. The woman was a female Mozzie and one Mozzie was more than enough, Peter thought. For the sake of his sanity, Peter took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before taking the pie that was suddenly thrust upon him. 

“Yummy,” Peter said when informed it was both gluten and lactose free. Without a word, the woman brushed past him, wandering off towards the dining room area.

“Isn’t she great?” Mozzie asked Peter with a look of puppy dog love on his face.

Following behind the woman, Peter watched as she helped herself to the bottle of wine on the table, pouring a Mozzie size glass. “I certainly see your attraction,” Peter answered truthfully. 

Returning to the living room, Diana came over to Peter and handed him a beer. By the exasperated expression on his face, Diana knew her former boss could use the drink. It was a common effect Mozzie had on them both.

“I see you met Zelda,” Diana said, amused by just how closely Peter was tracking the strange woman in his house.

“Is she even safe to wander about my house?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. Maybe it was rude, but he also didn’t think his concern was necessarily unwarranted. 

Diana shrugged but there was a twinkle in her eye as she said, “Probably not.” Diana laughed when Peter rubbed a hand across the back of his head; a clear sign that he was annoyed. “Relax, boss. She’s here with Mozzie.”

Peter stared back at Diana with a dubious expression on his lips. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” He relented and smiled when Diana rolled her eyes. They both knew that deep down Peter both liked and trusted Mozzie—well mostly, trusted Mozzie. 

It was then that Elizabeth made the announcement to everyone to help themselves to the various appetizers on the dining room table while they awaited the final two dinner guests. Standing next to his wife munching on shrimp cocktail, Peter asked when she expected Jones to arrive. Observing the painfully neutral expression on his wife’s face, Peter realized it wasn’t Jones she was waiting for. If not Jones, Peter thought, then who? That’s when a sinking feeling hit Peter hard causing him to nearly choke on a shrimp. 

“Shit,” he said without thinking. “It’s your parents.” Looking up, Peter grimaced when he observed arms folded across her chest and raised eyebrows. “Did I say that out loud?”

This time the doorbell saved Peter from having to further explain himself.

The steady roar of the room as the guests chatted and socialized immediately died down to an almost eerie silence and the expression on his wife’s face immediately softened. Looking around the room, Peter found nearly everyone staring at him with knowing smiles. Clearly, they were all in on the secret his wife had kept from him. They knew who was on the other side of the door and Peter’s gut told him he wouldn’t find his in-laws standing there. 

Looking back at his wife, he attempted to read her. She had a nervous energy about her. He could see that in the way she absently licked her lips. But she was also excited. That he could see in the sparkle that was present in her eyes. With a nod, she motioned for him to go to the door.

Feeling tightness in his chest with each step forward, Peter tried not to think, not to assume, not to leap to conclusions. It couldn’t be who he thought it was. It couldn’t be who he so desperately wanted it to be. And if it was--then what? What would he say? Glancing back again at his wife, he took solace in the encouragement he saw on her face. With a deep breath, he willed his feet to move forward. 

Arriving at the door, Peter started to reach for the handle but stopped, dropping his hand back down to his side. Peter couldn’t move; suddenly scared of the pain he would feel if he opened the door to find anyone other than a man he hadn’t seen in over five years, a man supposed to be dead. 

“Hon,” Elizabeth’s sweet voice called out to him as the doorbell chimed a second time. “Open the door.” 

So Peter did and the pain hit him harder than he imagined possible when he found who was standing on his doorstep. Before he could say a word, Alex Hunter pulled Peter into a hug and brushed a light kiss across his cheek. Stepping back and observing the disappointment on his face, she said innocently, “Were you expecting someone else?”

Before he could answer, Peter heard a soft chuckle come from behind him. Instantly, Peter felt his heart swell and his world came crashing back in place because he knew that laugh. God, he had missed that laugh! Knowing he had a goofy grin on his face, Peter held Alex’s gaze for a moment but wiped off the grin before slowly turning around. 

Everything and everyone including his wife faded from his view with one exception. Peter closed his eyes praying when he opened them again, he would still see the same thing; he would still see Neal Caffrey with his vintage, cocky smile staring right back at him. 

“Miss me?” Neal asked.


	3. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the guests have Thanksgiving dinner, Neal and Peter have a chance to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I confess that the conversation between Neal and Peter got heavier than I had initially planned. I will have to edit the tags from minor angst to full on angst. I shouldn't be surprised since nothing was ever easy between those two! I have most of the last chapter finished. Hope to have posted tomorrow but might not happen until Thanksgiving day. Hope everyone is enjoying the story.

Part Three: Second Chances

“Miss me?” Neal asked. He tried to keep his voice sounding nonchalant; as if the answer didn’t really matter to him. The reality was the answer meant everything.

It had been over five years since he had seen Peter. Having faked his own death and run off to Paris, Neal wasn’t exactly sure what type of reception he would receive from his former handler but a glance over at Elizabeth reassured him that everything was going to be okay. Still, it was more than a little nerve-racking that Peter had yet to say anything. Then ever so slowly, a goofy grin spread on Peter’s face and Neal let out the breath he had been holding. 

Watching Neal, Peter knew the younger man was waiting for his response. He could read in his tense body language that he was feeling unsure of himself, unsure of how Peter felt about his return. For a brief instance, Peter thought about saying something smart but seeing the nervous expression behind Neal’s smile, he went with honesty instead. 

“Every day,” Peter told him. Holding his arms open, he said, “Get over here!”

As the two shared a hug, nearly everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of their own. The first was Elizabeth who had been half scared Peter would be angry with Neal. Her husband had taken his death particularly hard; going as far as to blame himself for not preventing Neal’s death. Once he had gotten over the initial relief that Neal was in fact alive, Peter went through a stage of wanting to strangle Neal for putting them all through such hell. Later Elizabeth had worried Peter would run off to Paris to find Neal. Ultimately, her husband had shown remarkable restraint by not resuming the chase, but at the same time, she had noticed sadness there inside of him; as if something was missing in his life. Watching Peter now and seeing the joy on his face, Elizabeth had to turn away before anyone saw her tear up. 

Standing a few feet away from Elizabeth, Diana wasn’t as much concerned about Peter’s anger as his strong sense of right and wrong. Technically one could (and Diana had been with the FBI long enough to know that they would if they knew Neal wasn’t dead) make the argument Neal was a fugitive and had not fulfilled the terms of his agreement with the FBI. Had Peter made that call, Diana had been prepared to step in and arrest Neal herself to save Peter from having to put the cuffs on. Watching her former boss pull Neal into a bear hug, Diana could see a peace settle within him as though a heavy burden was no longer his to bare. Diana was thankful for that and the fact that no one was going to be arrested on this night. 

In contradiction to Diana, Alex hadn’t been concerned at all about Peter arresting Neal. She had grown very fond of the man who had helped her out of a jam a time or two; even occasionally turning a blind eye along the way to her misdeeds. No, her concern was for Neal himself. She knew how much of a struggle it had been for Neal to leave behind the family that had practically adopted him. For Neal it had been an even harder decision to come back to New York and face potential rejection from the one man Neal looked up to; the one man who could in turn hurt him deeper than his own father. Part of her fears had been alleviated by the pained expression on Peter’s face when he saw her and not Neal at the door. Seeing the smiles on both of their faces now cleared away any lingering doubt left in her.

Mozzie and Zelda appeared to be the only ones not affected by Neal’s appearance. Mozzie was too busy staring at Zelda and calculating the odds on whether or not she was an alien/human hybrid as she had claimed when they first met. Now having spent some time with her, he put it at a sixty/forty split in favor when he factored in that a woman like Zelda was just too special to be a mere mortal. For her part, Zelda was too busy posting an update on her blog about the need for people to rise up, come together, and fight the discrimination yams unfairly faced in this sweet potato dominated world.

While Neal and Peter continued to talk, Elizabeth took a moment to look around the room feeling immensely thankful to have such good people in her life. Then she happily announced it was time to eat and began funneling guests into the dining room. Once all had been seated and the food blessed, they ate family style, passing the various dishes around the table. Conversation was active but light as they enjoyed the food and companionship offered. 

Once the dishes had cleared, everyone reconvened into the living room with slices of either pumpkin or pecan pie to watch the second half of the Washington/Dallas game. As a Giants fan, Peter had a hard time rooting for either team but since it was a Thanksgiving Day tradition with Elizabeth to watch football he cowboyed up. 

By eight o’clock, the guests started leaving. Christie and Diane were the first to head out. The couple planned to get a few hours of sleep before hitting the early Black Friday shopping deals. They had their eye on a few items for Theo who was having a sleep over at the Burke house. Neither Elizabeth nor Peter minded keeping Diana’s son overnight since Theo got along with Neal so well. The two young boys were two peas in a pod. However, Peter did make a mental note to question Neal the next day to ensure that Theo had not shown him any new tricks his self-proclaimed Godfather Mozzie may have taught him. Both Diana and Peter had on more than one occasion instructed Mozzie on what was, and more importantly was not, appropriate to teach five and six year old boys! 

Soon after Mozzie and Zelda advised they were calling it a night as well but not before misappropriating two bottles of wine from the Burkes’ wine rack. And when Mozzie indicated they could find their own way out, Peter insisted on escorting the couple personally to the back door where he maintained a visual until they vacated his property. 

With all the other guests gone, Elizabeth advised she was going to start cleaning up the kitchen. Alex immediately got off the couch telling Elizabeth she would help. Before leaving the room, both women sent their men looks to indicate they should play nice and talk.

Both Neal and Peter shared a laugh once the women were out of sight. “Wow that was subtle!” Neal said still chuckling and Peter immediately agreed. Then they fell silent; feeling awkward now this it was just the two of them in the room. After a moment, both started speaking at once, apologizing to one another before breaking off into laughter again.

Lowering the volume on the TV, Peter turned towards Neal. “Look you don’t need to apologize for leaving like you did. El told me about the conversation she had with you when we took on the Pink Panther case. I know you were just trying to keep me safe and keep your promise to her.”

Relieved that he didn’t have to explain himself, Neal stated, “It wasn’t easy to leave, Peter, and was even harder to stay away.” Neal was pleased when Peter gave him an understanding smile so he continued on wanting to tell his mentor about the life he had made for himself since that time. “But you should know when I got to Paris, I--”

Peter cut Neal off by suddenly getting up off the couch announcing they should have a drink. Returning a moment later, Peter had 2 glasses and a bottle of Port in hand. 

Waiting for him to settle back down on the couch, Neal attempted to continue. “Like I was saying, I didn’t initially know what I was going to do but then--”

“Chocolate,” Peter interrupted Neal in mid-sentence. “Elizabeth has some good Belgian chocolate a client gave him. It would pair well with this Port, don’t you think?” Without waiting for a response, Peter was again up and leaving the room.

Frustrated, Neal waited for Peter to return. He knew what the problem was and in some ways he really couldn’t blame Peter for thinking what he did. On the other hand, jumping to the wrong conclusions was the very thing that had caused them so much heartache in the past and Neal was determined not to let it happen again. Absently swirling the wine in his glass, Neal sighed. Why did things always have to be so damn difficult between them? 

After Peter sat back down, Neal started talking again. This time when the older man attempted to stand up, Neal reached out, grabbed him by the belt, and yanked him back onto the couch. 

“Damn it, Peter, sit your ass down!” Neal snapped letting his frustration show.

Peter was shocked when Neal forcefully pulled him back onto the couch. After all, it was Peter who typically did the manhandling in their relationship. But Peter couldn’t really fault Neal for feeling irritated. Clearly he was trying to tell Peter something he thought important and Peter was doing all he could to avoid the conversation. Why did things always have to be so damn difficult between them, he wondered? Suddenly Peter felt drained and he didn’t have the will to fight Neal on this but the man should at least know the consequences. Leaning back on the couch, Peter closed his eyes, “Neal, I have to tell you--”

It was Neal’s turn to cut Peter off. “Neal Caffrey is dead!” He coldly reminded Peter. “He was shot and killed over five years ago during an FBI operation.” Peter’s eyes shot open and Neal immediately kicked himself for causing the pain reflecting in those brown soulful eyes. Neal had known when he set his plan in motion that the end result would be Peter blaming himself for his death. While he had hoped that time would heal some of those wounds, the expression on Peter’s face let Neal know that the hurt might be buried under the surface but it was very much still present. If there had been another way…

“I’m sorry,” Peter started to say but Neal waved his apology off.

“Peter, if I don’t have anything to apologize for than neither do you,” Neal insisted, daring Peter to challenge him. When Peter held his tongue, Neal let out a breath. Peter had taught him that going full speed ahead wasn’t always the right way to go and that sometimes you had to find another way to accomplish your mission. He sensed that this was one of those times. Deciding to try a different tactic, Neal changed the subject. “I bet you were surprised to see Alex.”

Peter nodded unsure about the sudden pivot in conversation but happy to be on somewhat safer ground. “That’s one way to put it. I take it you two are together?”

“We are,” Neal confirmed. When Peter cocked his head, Neal laughed. “I know, I know. Alex and I have a lot of history both good and bad. About two years ago, we ran into one another and we talked Peter. I mean like really talked. You know chemistry was never the problem with us.”

“But trust was,” Peter interjected; thinking back to how Alex had withheld from Neal her connection to the music box. 

Neal didn’t bother to dispute it. “You’re right. Alex and I never trusted one another. I think over half the time we ever spent together, we were either competing with each other or outright deceiving one another. But seeing her in Paris, I remembered just how much I liked her.” Reading Peter’s mind, Neal added, “And yes how much fun we had together.” 

Seeing the upturn of Peter’s lip, Neal shook his head in feigned annoyance before continuing. “I came to realize that in the past there had always been some complicating factor preventing us from even trying to see if we had anything real. At first, it was Kate and Adler, then the quest for the music box, then Kate’s death, add in Sarah and Rebecca, and last but not least you.”

“Me?” Peter said all innocence displayed on his face.

Neal snorted, “Yes, you Mister FBI Agent. It may not have been a wedding ring on my finger, but that lovely piece of technology you wrapped around my ankle was just as successfully at keeping me faithful to you and the good old FBI.” 

Peter’s mood turned somber. “You know that wasn’t my intention, right? I really wanted you to be happy.”

“As long as it was with the right girl,” Neal finished Peter’s unspoken thought. “Which you didn’t believe was Kate or Alex.”

Peter wasn’t apologetic. “One used you and the other, well, had a knack for getting you in trouble.”

Neal looked at his friend who seemed to be in a calmer state of mind than earlier. Now seemed as good a time as any to delve back into what they really needed to talk about and his relationship with Alex segued nicely into that area. “I know you’re afraid to hear what I’ve been doing since I left, but it’s not what you think. Alex and I have come a long way and have actually made a life together. I would really like to tell you about it if you will just listen.”

Peter sighed. Neal just didn’t understand the position he was putting him in. Maybe he didn’t see it but things were different now. He couldn’t protect him the same way he could before. Again Peter tried to convey that to him. “Neal, you’re not my CI and I’m not your handler anymore. I can’t just put down my badge and offer you immunity like I did before.”

Neal reached out and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder; his crystal clear blue eyes staring intently into Peter’s eyes. “And I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to.”


	4. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns about Neal's time in Paris and is surprised to discover what Neal is doing now. During the conversation, Neal gets an answer to a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! This final chapter took longer than expected as I confess to struggling with an ending. Just like the previous chapter, this one is heavier in the angst department than I had originally intended, but as promised there is a happy ending. Besides, who doesn't like a good angst story between these two? And it gave me a chance to have Elizabeth be the perfect go-between and I love finding ways to add her into my stories. I hope everyone who has been reading enjoys the final part.

Chapter Four: New Beginnings

Neal waited a moment to see if Peter had any more objections. When the older man remained silent but kept his focus on him, Neal slowly let out the breath he had been holding. He quickly launched into a summary of his life after leaving New York; carefully avoiding all eye contact with Peter when he stated that since money wasn’t really an issue, he had spent the first year traveling. After having only a two mile radius to navigate for so many years, it was intoxicating to explore Paris and then the surrounding countries. He confessed to Peter that after the year, he had tired of traveling and returned to Paris to put down roots. 

Feeling a bit uneasy with this part of the story, Neal shifted in his seat. Although he had rehearsed this speech before, he was finding it harder to tell now that Peter was actually sitting beside him. For a brief instant, he wanted to get up and run; old habits die hard, he guessed. As if he could read his thoughts, Peter placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Neal knew he shouldn’t have been surprised since he and Peter always seemed to have a connection, but that gesture meant so much more now. It meant that despite the time and distance, that connection was still there. It had been something weighing heavily on Neal’s mind and with that one touch, those doubts were erased.

Neal took in a breath and slowly exhaled giving himself time to settle his emotions. Then before his courage failed him, he forged on in a voice a little shaky and flat. Neal admitted how he had half-expected, half-hoped to find Peter waiting for him upon his return. He even acknowledged to Peter that for the first month he routinely hung around the Louvre just on the chance of spying the agent. But after weeks passed by without a sighting, Neal found himself feeling confused knowing he had left plenty of clues for Peter to discover Neal had faked his own death and had fled to Paris.

“That’s when you reached out to Mozzie to leave me the bottle of wine, wasn’t it?” Peter asked slowly, as his mind worked double-time not only listening to what Neal was saying but also seeing in Neal’s body language just all the things he wasn’t telling Peter. When Neal nodded but avoided looking at him, Peter sighed and mentally kicked himself as he realized the bottle had been a hell of a lot more than just a map to the storage unit. 

“The bottle wasn’t just a clue, it was a test,” Peter said reaching out to lift Neal’s chin so that he could see his eyes. As they briefly connected, Peter found those familiar blue eyes were wide and scared. He dropped his hand and Neal immediately planted a fake smile on his face and looked at a point just over Peter’s head. It was classic avoidance on his part. 

“And I failed,” Peter said as he hung his own head, muttering a curse under his breath. No wonder the poor kid had looked as though he was going to rabbit on him. And now the conman smile was in place, the protective mask Neal used whenever he needed to protect himself. The fact that he was using it now to protect himself against Peter spoke volumes. Neal wanted an explanation but was too scared of the answer to actually ask. 

After a deep breath, Peter told Neal what he already knew which was how Peter had not realized Neal was alive until he had received the bottle. Peter closed his eyes again knowing that explanation wasn’t really what Neal was asking. As he felt Neal shift beside of him again, Peter returned his hand to Neal’s arm, pleased when he instantly stilled. Only then did Peter continue, “I-I just couldn’t do it, Neal. My heart wasn’t in chasing you anymore, because when I found you--”

“You would have had to arrest me,” Neal finished for him, not missing the fact Peter had said when and not if. Sitting back further on the couch, he felt both disappointed and relieved. While he was disappointed Peter wouldn’t have let him go, he was far more relieved to know that Peter not coming for him hadn’t been because Peter had stopped caring.

Peter kept his eyes closed as he quietly confessed, “I don’t think I would have.” Peter suddenly let out a bitter laugh. “Seems my sense of duty gets a little skewed around you which is why I don’t want you to tell me what you have been up to the last few years.”

Neal stood up, his frustration mounting as he watched and listened to Peter. He couldn’t help but think that some things would never change between them. He had been so hopeful when he entered the Burke home that things would be different this time around but now he was thinking maybe it had been a mistake to come. Again the desire to run was building in him. To relieve some of his anxiety, he allowed himself to move just not in the direction of the door.

Feeling the tension building, Peter reluctantly opened his eyes and tracked Neal’s path as the young man paced in front of the couch. At one point, Neal stopped and started to say something only to change his mind and resume his pacing. Not knowing what to say, Peter remained silent. Neal again stopped. He picked up his wine glass and downed the remainder of the Port. The sadness in his eyes was nearly palpable and not lost on Peter who could do nothing but wait Neal out.

After a few more strides, Neal came to a stop and threw his hands in the air as he stared pointedly at Peter. “Tell me what it was all for, Peter?” Neal didn’t wait for a response from Peter but kept up his rant. “If you never thought I could change, then what was it all for? Why get me out of prison? I know it wasn’t just to catch The Dutchman.” 

Peter hung his head knowing he had royally screwed the pooch on this one but all he could do now was try his best to make things right. “Of course it wasn’t!” Peter said in defense. He wasn’t always good at expressing himself but he knew he had to try and convey to Neal his motivations at the time he had taken him on as his CI. “Somewhere along the line I stopped looking at you as a smart, charming criminal but rather as a morally misguided young man. Maybe it was arrogance on my part, but I thought I could make a difference.”

“And you did!” Neal assured him.

“Did I?” Peter asked sadly, allowing his mind to drift back into the past. “Do you remember your last words to me? You told me I was the only one to see the good in you. You told me I was your best friend.”

“And you were, you are,” Neal said, his voice suddenly unsteady. In his head, he was back in that same moment.

“You said that to me as part of ‘Neal Caffrey’s greatest con’. I don’t know about you, but the irony…”

Neal defended himself. “I left you clues.”

Finally showing his own irritation, Peter snapped back, “And I saw you lying dead in a damn body bag so you’ll have to forgive me for being off my game!”

Neal looked away for a moment, lost in thought. Then he collapsed down on the couch next to Peter. “Huh. Well if you’re going to hold that against me…!”

Peter stared incredulously at Neal before breaking down into laughter. After a moment, Neal joined in and both men felt the tension leave them. “I don’t know about you, but I really do need a drink.” Emphatically, Neal nodded in agreement and poured both men another glass of the Port. 

“Neal,” Peter started after a sip of the wine, “I’m sorry about before. I’m ready to listen if you still want to talk to me.” Neal gave Peter a classic Caffrey grin and Peter knew all was forgiven. And that was how it was with them. Both at times had tested the other but at the end of the day each respected the other, and they somehow managed to come back together.

So with that Peter sat back and listened as Neal told him of an incident that changed everything. He told Peter of the day he had been sitting at a café when a young girl part of a school field trip caught his eye. She was being bullied by some of her fellow students and despite a teacher breaking it up, the girl was obviously still upset. Feeling a need to do something, Neal quickly drew a caricature of her on a napkin, and handed it to the girl. Instantly Neal was rewarded with a large but shy smile. That feeling of having made a difference in someone’s life even if only for a moment was something Neal realized had been missing since he had left New York, missing since he had stopped working with Peter.

Over the next several months, Neal took a scratch pad with him everywhere he went and whenever he saw someone unhappy or looking depressed, he would present them with a drawing. The instant gratification he received might not have been quite the same as pulling a successful con, but it was just as addictive. At the same time, Neal felt that it was a way to counter all the bad things he had done in his life. 

“That’s when fate took it another step further,” Neal teased Peter who by now was sitting up straight actively listening to Neal. 

“How so?” Peter asked, clearly curious to where Neal’s story was heading. 

“Do you remember Mr. Jeffries?” After a moment, Peter nodded as he recalled Mr. Jeffries ran the orphanage in Detroit that Mozzie grew up in. “Well thanks to an anonymous donation, the orphanage was able to not only make improvements but expand to a second location.” 

Again Neal carefully avoided Peter’s gaze knowing the agent would quickly put two and two together that Mozzie was the secret benefactor and the Pink Panther heist was the likely source of the money. Still he couldn’t quite keep the grin off his face when he heard a chocking sound from Peter. Without looking, Neal knew Peter was rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Neal continued with his story telling Peter about how he and Mozzie had been invited to the grand opening of the sister orphanage which was dedicated to housing special needs children. Neal stopped speaking, his feelings overwhelming him. Peter waited patiently for him to settle enough to continue; even pouring more Port into his glass to help fortify him. Gratefully, Neal sipped the glass while he got his emotions under control. 

“Peter, I can’t explain it to you, but I felt this immediate connection not just to the place but to the kids. And when I told Alex, she was unbelievably supportive.”

“Supportive how?” Peter asked trying to maintain a neutral expression. Neal couldn’t be telling him what he thought he was telling him. He couldn’t be saying he was living in Detroit, a mere 500-600 miles away. He couldn’t be telling him that he had gone completely legit.

Neal held his breath and met Peter’s hopeful expression. “Alex and I have been living in Detroit for two years now working for the orphanage.”

Not wanting to upset the careful balance they had just achieved, Peter kept his voice light as he asked, “You’re working for an orphanage—in Detroit?!”

“I’ve been conducting art therapy and animal assisted therapy with the kids,” Neal stated proudly. Unable to contain his excitement, Neal continued, “Some of these kids, Peter, can’t talk but give them some markers or paint and they have a way to express themselves!” Neal turned more somber, “And some have never experienced love but pair them with a shelter dog and it’s both heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time as you watch that bond grow!”

As Peter listened to Neal go on about his new life, Peter was amazed and humbled. He knew Neal Caffrey had a heart of gold. He knew he could be so much more than a thief and a con artist, but to hear the passion in Neal’s voice, it was almost too much for Peter who felt his own heart swell. Never, ever had he felt more proud of anyone in his life. 

Suddenly, Peter noticed the silence in the room. Neal had stopped talking. Looking over at him, Peter saw just how nervous he was. His vulnerability was bleeding through in his every breath and in the large blue eyes staring blindly at the floor as Neal waited for Peter to speak. And Peter tried, he really did try to talk to Neal but he couldn’t find the right words to truly convey his feelings. And with every second that passed in silence, he could feel Neal withdrawing inside himself. 

“Neal, I-you-I…” Peter stuttered. Damnit, talking about his feelings just wasn’t his strong point. Thankfully, he knew someone who was a master at comfort and that someone came to his rescue.

“Neal, sweetie,” Elizabeth said calmly as she sat on the arm of the couch by her husband and took his hand into hers, “What Peter is trying to say is that he is proud of you.” Looking at her husband, she said, “Isn’t that right, hon?”

Peter simply nodded and Neal slowly raised his eyes to meet his. Smiling, Elizabeth continued, “And he also wants you to know that he always knew that you were more than a con and a criminal even if he never told you that.”

Peter squeezed his wife’s hand, grateful that she knew him so well. Watching Neal, he could see that Elizabeth’s words were getting through to him and bringing him back from the edge. In fact, he could see Neal’s cheeks were flushed. 

Looking from Peter to Neal, Elizabeth knew her work was done and felt confident her husband could take it from there. Standing, Elizabeth first brushed a kiss on Neal’s forehead and then gave Peter a quick peck on the lips before leaving them alone again in the room. 

Neal broke the silence; his voice soft and low. “Peter, is that true?”

Peter let a slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah, Neal, I am proud of you and am happy that you have made a life for yourself.” Peter was rewarded with a shy smile from Neal in return. Then Peter added. “I’m also thankful that you and I get this second chance.” 

Neal’s face lit up. “So am I, Peter, so am I.”


End file.
